Climbing Pits
by Wicked R
Summary: Abberline will not go endanger Mary, but what if one of his visions tell him she needs his help?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Climbing Pits  
Author: WickedRum

Disclaimers: If I owned it, it wouldn't have ended like that, for sure! Not to mention real life Chief Inspector Frederick George Abberline died about 30 yeas later and it was no overdose!! Pft! What the hell!?

Genre: Angst/Romance/AU.

Set: my story starts at the scene where Abberline finds the bit of hair on the last body that doesn't belong to Mary Kelly.

Pairing: Abberline/Mary, Abberline/Godley friendship.

Summary: Abberline will not go endanger Mary, but what if one of his visions tell him she needs his help?

Rating: possibly adult for the drug usage references.

Abberline managed to get himself together in just a few seconds not to give away his significant finding and with shaking hands he placed the bits of hair that weren't Mary's back on the body where he had found them. The Ripper didn't know it wasn't Mary and apparently his own superior, Sir Charles Warren didn't either. That was the only explanation why he would've reinstated him in his job as the chief inspector in Whitechapel and he'd certainly report back to whoever highty mighty he was reporting back to that the killings were finished and dealt with as there were no more witnesses. Abberline could be left in charge to investigate the nothing, cause there wasn't anything left to investigate. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath telling himself to calm down, although there was a badly mutilated and hardly recognizable body, he should distance himself from the human side of it like he always did as the victim wasn't one he did deeply care for. However, the horror and the emotion that was previously cursing through his veins having thought to have lost another love to the ferryman didn't just disappear like that at will. His stomach clenched at the thought of giving anything away in front of Warren's men and endangering Mary Kelly. That could've been her. It almost was, he thought it was. Suddenly feeling very sick to his stomach he stumbled outside and leaning to the wall as he didn't manage any further he got rid of that little absinthe that he had consumed earlier. His knees attempting to give out he looked over to his Sergent, "I trust you can finish this?" It came out very quiet and weak as dizziness added to his troubles so instead of complying the normally harsh Godley who never really gave him any consideration over his addiction ended up standing beside him and holding him up.

"The officer has already started inside, didn't he?" Peter Godley was well aware of their unimportance in the matter, present or not. Abberline and Warren seemed to have agreed about one thing, that the killings were over, even if he didn't know yet why. "Constable, lend us that coach will you? I need to take the inspector home," he guided Abberline into that direction, "what's wrong with you?" He asked a bit more quietly. Although his boss couldn't get himself out the hold of opium, he wasn't used to him displaying such emotions, no matter what life was burdening him with.

Abberline didn't answer, just climbing up into the couch was enough trouble. Godley gave the driver a sign they should be off and sat next to the woozy looking inspector, who doubled over on the seat, clutching at his stomach with a groan. Godley put a hand on his superior's back, whispering, "you do know, that was not Mary Kelly, don't you?"

Abberline nodded, then gulped and leaned back, closing his eyes. Godley let him rest, frequently casting worried looks at his pallid and sweaty features. Being with him every day Godley had a pretty good knowledge of how far gone Abberline really was from any resemblance of a normal life. For the last two years, he hadn't seen him having a proper meal, drinking anything else than alcohol and spending any of his free time anywhere else than the gloomy loneliness of his home or the opium parlor, no matter how many times he invited him for dinner himself. He doubted he ever slept without inducing it with some drug. Sooner or later that resilient body of his was going to give out and Godley feared it was close to it being now. "Abberline," he touched his leg gently, so far from slamming him in the face or pouring a bucket of cold water over him when he was trying to bring him back to reality other times. The inspector gave a quiet moan, then opened his eyes for a moment, just to close them again. Godley frowned. Abberline wasn't high on drugs, he could tell. And yet he seemed out of it, with some added grief marring his face. He didn't understand. "Are you not feeling well?" He tried.

"Need to be alone," Abberline sighed and willed himself to move and step out the couch, wincing.

Godley wasn't convinced. He followed the younger man out just in time to catch him from collapsing. "Driver! Give me a hand! We have to carry him upstairs!" He asked, but then pretty much lifted Abberline up himself with little help, using the couch driver to open the doors for him instead. "Now go fetch a doctor!" He ordered as he eased Abberline down onto the bed, not having a clue what to do with him. It had to do with the drugs and the upheaval with the Mary situation together, but he still didn't know how he could help other than staying by his bedside and going along with the flow. When watching Abberline struggle chaotically in bed he thought of maybe wiping his face off from the sweat. He found a handkerchief in one of the drawers, but when he went back with it, the inspector snatched it off from him and put it over his mouth, fighting dry heaves as his whole body shook uncontrollably. He seemed to calm down a little after a while and Godley took the chance, eased him back on the pillow and squeezed his arm lightly as encouragement.

Abberline wasn't thankful for it though, "what do you want? Go away!" He grunted defiantly, but his voice remained weak. He would've rather been alone, he would be able to get to the cabinet somehow by himself, fetch some absinthe and laudanum. The combination would always ease the pains till he could get to the opium den. He doubted Godley would willingly offer him his poison.

"I just want to help you," Godley said pleadingly, softly, knowing there wasn't much chance of him accepting it.

"You can't help."

"I don't understand you at times," Godley sighed, "let's be honest, I don't understand you a lot. We might not be able to search for the killer, but you saved lives. It has to count for something!"

"You can't help," Abberline repeated and by the look in his eyes, Godley feared he was right.

"I'm going to stay till the doctor I called arrives, whether you like it or not," he said determined, cashing in on the fact Abberline was hardly in any condition to oppose.

Tbc


	2. Connected

Chapter 2: Connected

"Addiction is a disease with no simple cures, Sergeant," Dr. Myles explained outside Abberline's house, "these opium dens, I've seen it many times, withdrawal is extremely uncomfortable and addicts typically continue taking the drug to avoid pain rather than to attain the initial state of euphoria and normally there's not much point to it either. Sooner or later they'd be back where they've started. I did certainly give him some sedatives for just now, but the next few days'll be tough on him."

"What can I expect?"

"Opium withdrawal symptoms include but are not limited to nausea, cramps, loss of appetite and mood swings. Depends on what he wants on the long term, but he might even use force to get to the den."

"Thank you doctor," Godley went back into Abberline's bedroom to find him shaking so much the bed was shaking with him and that despite the sedatives. Godley wondered if they were taking effect yet and right enough they did, Abberline did finally seem to drift off to a more restful sleep, but not before some cold sweats and another bout of sickness.

Godley didn't touch him with the handkerchief anymore, fearing he would disturb him and as he lit the lamps for the evening he finally took at look at those books Abberline possessed, but he had never had a chance to read., annexes to the encyclopedia. He could never afford those. Engulfed in the history of the vikings, he almost dropped the heavy book out of his hands when he heard Abberline's quiet, calm voice.

"You shouldn't stay here with me. Your wife must be missing you."

"My wife's long gone the stage of missing me," Godley assured him, moving back to his bedside, "in fact, she was already here providing us with some soup for dinner. Would you like some?"

Abberline averted his eyes, so Godley took that as a no. "How are you feeling?"

"I could sure use a little laudanum to take the edge off a bit?" He struggled to sit up with this unusual pleading in his voice and good amount of despair.

Godley was sure if there was any way he could get it himself, if he could convince him to leave, if he could act as if he was fine and made him leave, he would get it himself without any hesitation. The sergeant shook his head, frowning a bit apologetically, waiting for the reaction,"I threw it out."

However, there was no dramatic outburst. Godley assumed he wasn't capable of it right now. "Am I allowed some absinthe from my devout police sergeant then?" Came the sarcastic remark. Abberline closed his eyes and gulped, rethinking the comment, "please?" He sighed the word heavily.

"Fine," Godley stood up and handed his the bottle, "but then you eat the soup," he was trying to sweet-talk some food into him. He waited a little while so the absinthe could settle and then walked up to him armed with a spoon and a bowl of soup, determined. He hovered it in front of him and almost showed the first spoon full down his throat. Now that he was satisfied with himself he could resume conversation while feeding him. "Do you get like this oftentimes?" He asked quietly, almost as if afraid to go that deep. But the concern in his voice made sure his partner didn't take it the wrong way.

Nevertheless, Abberline wasn't in the talking mood and it was hardly a surprise. "No." Of course not idiot, I'd be down the den by now.

"But it did happen before?" Godley was hoping for some information, anything that could help him help Abberline.

"Sure," the inspector said offhandedly, taking the soup out of his friend's hands and putting it down beside him, "but I don't want to talk about it." With that, he turned to the wall, ready to shut him out, "if you're so resolute to stay and fuss, I'm sure you can do it without my company."

The soup was damned, Godley established.

Tbc


	3. Incubus

Chapter 3: Incubus

Sleeping on the large armchair that he pulled into the bedroom, Godley woke to some kind of noise which he turned to investigate.

Abberline was fidgeting in his bed and moaned, "no..." His head rolled to the side and then halfway back.

A nightmare? Godley contemplated. He wasn't tossing and turning. More like a vision? Either way, the inspector needed the rest so badly. Should he wake him up so he can settle down? Godley stood, hesitating till he heard that pain filled moan. He didn't want to add to his distress, so he called his name as softly as he could. However, he had to become louder, grabbing both his arms till he got some kind of response in the form of Abberline gazing at him long and unfocused.

"Abberline," he tried again. Maybe waking him wasn't such a brilliant idea after all.

It took about a minute for Abberline to become completely cognizant of his surroundings, but then his behavior changed dramatically. His eyes mirroring churning emotions, he jumped up, "where did you put my shoes?" He rummaged under the bed, then in the wardrobe, only to pull out a hidden bottle from the top shelf that read Laudanum, Warning: Poison and before Godley realized what was happening he took a swig from it, hardly caring how much or if it was a deadly doze.

Only then could Godley snatch it off him, horrified, "do you want to die like this in front of my eyes? Do you not care?"

"I do care, how much I take," he pushed Godley out his way to the other room forcefully, "because I need to be alive when I get there."

"Get there? Where? You can't go after her just yet. Warren was happy giving me the time off to look after you, it suits them us not being around, but they're still watching you."

"I would never go after her. They'll be watching, forever, it's a matter of royal survival, they'll be watching I can assure you. And yet, she'll not make it onto the board of the ship without me. They'll ask her about her husband, her traveling alone and with baby. I've seen it."

"What ship?"

"I don't know what ship. Maybe for Ireland. But I have to find her before they do. Will you help me get to the harbor?"

"How?"

"The location of my shoes would be a start, then that bottle back, Godley I swear I know how little to take when, but I need it if I'm to survive this night helping her and alive without a trip to the den. Please Peter." By now he was cockily smiling at him, his voice filled with blissful agitation, rather than genuine fearfulness for any life in fact, proof that the gulp had been a tad too much already.

Godley produced the shoes from behind the couch, but was again, clueless as to what was the right thing to do here. Abberline did probably know how much of a drug was enough and how much was too much exactly to the milliliter and he did want to save this girl, unfortunate or not. It was madness though, going against the corruption amongst the lines of the police, against the interests of the throne if what he was saying was true. But he didn't have to give his answer as there was knock on the door. "I should open that at this time of the night!" Godley suggested, "for all interests, you are ill in bed."

Abberline nodded and lay back down, for all interests, being forced to delay action for a little while. He looked at the visitor and his heart stopped beating for a few good seconds. "The stupidest thing you could've done, oh no! We could be in oversight here!"

However, Mary Kelly gave him a compassionate smile, "you're poorly," she stepped closer, shoving a sleeping baby into Godley's clumsy hands.

Abberline sat up and took her hand to put it on his cheek, feeling her, taking deep breaths. When he finally looked up into her eyes energized by her closeness he was determined, like never before, "the Etruria Ocean liner is set to leave this morning. We will be on it and safe if we change identities in America."

"America?" Mary was surprised, "I thought we were going back to Ireland."

"No, too dangerous, I wasn't thinking big enough and I wasn't thinking the three of us. But I am now. Godley, my friend, will you please look out to see if there's anybody around? And Godley, we don't have much time and you'll probably never even get a postcard, but thank you for keeping me alive for this." He hugged his friend briefly, much more showing of affection was not right, even if he felt in Godley's debt a lot more than that. He gently took the baby from the sergeant, a small smile flashing up on his face for a second. But Godley saw it. That was the last thing he'd ever seen him doing, the last he had ever heard of any of them. America was this new big place, there would be opium too, but Abberline would never have a reason to smoke that with a family or endanger them in such way. It wasn't about the addiction for him as such. Godley trusted they'd be safe and happy.

The End.


End file.
